


Mordeo and Margaliet

by orphan_account



Category: Regular Show
Genre: Behold the result of 12 hours of caffeine and netflix, Character Death, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Forbidden Love, Funny, I love you guys, I'm Sorry, Love, Minor Character Death, Parody, Please Forgive me, Puns & Word Play, Regular Show - Freeform, Romance, Shakespare, Stupidity, Swordfighting, Tragedy/Comedy, balls, stupid, they put the fun in dysfunctional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-09 14:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14717678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Romeo and Juliet in a Regular Show way.It's nothing but.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

_Once Upon A Time, somewhere in Italy,_

_Two households would rise, both alike in stupidity_

_Mad at each other, for reasons never quite explained,_

_They constantly argued –with swords- until that fateful day_

_Their teenage son and daughter fell in puppy love_

_And since they could not tell any adult involved_

_That led to conflict, bad poetry and six deaths_

_That of course is still set as love goals and inspires dumb teens to rebel_

_May now the narration of this charming tale commence_

_I now present you, Mordeo and Margaliet._

 

 

 

It was bright and shiny in the beautiful land of Verona. The city was blooming and thriving with activity, and it was said to be one of the most wonderful and peaceful cities known for miles. Well, that was only half true. It was certainly a wonderful place, the people were interesting and the economy wasn’t bad either, but it was _far_ from being peaceful. That was because there was a little thing called war between two very wealthy -and therefore important in society’s eyes- households, the Montagues and the Capulets. The reason for this is- oh right who cares, the point is they hate each other and this also includes their servants. That happens to be more important than one would expect, since the story begins with two of Casa Capulet’s servants having a friendly yet heated conversation that would lead to more interesting things…

Oh by the way all characters are humans, furries or freaks in between. Hope you don’t mind- this IS a Regular Show based fanfic after all.

So! the story begins with two hardworking men, having a nice chat in the streets of Verona. The men were a short, green-skinned man –who was clearly overweight- and a small ghost with an arm coming out of its head. These were none other but the Montague servants Musclesam and High Five Greghost, the first venting tirelessly to the former.

“I swear man, we can’t let those losers humiliate us. We are Capulet servants and won’t take their garbage!”

“Yeah man, otherwise we’d not be servants but garbage men.” High Five Greghost joked.

“Ugh, whatever man, you know what I mean. If they try to pick a fight, we beat them up! With swords.” Musclesam clarified. “Those losers won’t know what hit ‘em!” He made some sword fighting motions.

 “I don’t know Musclesam; maybe we should just ignore them next time. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“You know who _else_ doesn’t want me to get in trouble?” He asked with a smirk. He waited a beat before blurting, “MY MOM!”

They both laughed warmly at that, it was an inside joke that never got old. Musclesam continued talking, “For real though, next time I see those wimps Imma punch them all over their ugly faces. And you know I hit hard when I’m angry.”

“I would if you ever _really_ got angry instead of just _saying_ you’ll punch them and then never actually doing it.” He teased him.

“Oh yeah? Just watch bro! I get mad just by thinking of them! Furious!”

“So furious you run away every time they draw out their swords,” Fives laughed at him, “Face it man, you don’t stand a chance.”

“Shut up!” Musclesam barked, “Those Montague chumps make me angry enough to do anything. If I pass one of them on the street, I’ll take the side closer to the wall so they have no choice but to soak their fancy baby shoes in the gutter.”

High Five Greghost screwed his face in confusion, “But wouldn’t that put you in the most vulnerable position since you’d literally be with your back against the wall?”

“You’re right. That’s why girls get pushed up against walls, because they are so weak. In that case, I’ll push the Montague men into the street and the Montague women up against the wall, so it’ll all make sense.”

“But the fight is between our masters and us, the men that serve them. I don’t know how any women would be involved at all-”

“Psh, whatever man, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be a harsh master to those lame-os, men and women alike. After I fight the men, and beat them up like the wimps they are, I’ll be nice to the women—by cutting off their heads. Because I’m an awesome master.”

“Cut off their heads?! You mean their,” he looked both sides to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them before finishing with a whisper, “maidenheads?!”

“Heads, maidenheads, whatever man, take my statement whatever way you like. As long as it makes sense I don’t care.” Musclesam shrugged.

“You better decide which ‘way’ you mean or those poor women will be the ones to ‘sense’ it.”

“Oh, trust me, they’ll sense it alright- as long as I can keep my boner with all that screaming anyways. Everybody knows I’m a hunk.” He made some arm flexes to prove his point, sporting a smug grin on his face. His friend didn’t have the heart to tell him that the toned body that earned him his nickname back in the day was long gone, especially since the green man spent more time at banquets than at sword training on the present day. “Oh yeah, I’m a sexy piece of meat. They’ll be _begging_ me to get under their dresses.”

High Five Greghost just shook his head with a smile, “Good thing you’re not a piece of fish then, or you’d be already dried and shriveled.”

Before Musclesam could either retort that statement of at least mock punch him, two more men entered the scene. They were a short, brown brushtail possum and a tall, white ostrich, and they were both glaring at them from afar.

“Man, quit joking now, those bastards are Montague servants,” Musclesam told Fives, who nodded. “Now go fight them bro, I got you covered.”

“Wait what?” The ghost asked in bewilderment, “I thought YOU wanted to fight them?”

“Uh, yeah but-it’s better if you face them first and I-uh, do some _evaluation_ of the situation, man.”.

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to ‘evaluate the situation’? By turning around and running away?!”

“No way man!” Musclesam said unconvincingly, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be right behind you!”

“I DO worry about you because it’s always the same every time! You leave me to take the Montague hunks on my own while you run off to make out with Starlane or whatever girl you’re with right now!”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME AND I SAID I WAS SORRY! JUST-ugh, never mind bro, let’s calm down for a moment. If we get in trouble and break the law by starting a fight our Lord will get super mad at us. How about we make THEM start the fight then?”

HFG stopped in thought for a moment before nodding, “Alright then, I’ll frown at them when they look at us. They react however they want, and we can’t be blamed then.”

“However those chickens DARE, you mean. But as good as that plan is, it’s not gonna be enough,” Musclesam crossed his arms and shook his head, “what we really need, is THIS.” He finished with his right thumb in the air.

“Your…approval?”

“What? No! My thumb, man!” He corrected, “I’ll bite my thumb at them, you know, like insulting them, and being the wimpy losers they are they’ll let me and they’ll be dishonored forever and I’ll rub it all over their faces next time I see them.”

And just as promised, Musclesam turned to the Montague men and bit his thumb, all while staring defiantly at them.

The shorter of them stopped on his tracks, “Hey, are you biting your thumb at us?”

“So fwat if I em?” He glared at him, his thumb still between his teeth.

“Answer the question,” The white ostrich man frowned, “ _Are you_ or _are you not_ biting your thumb at us?”

Muscleman asked HFG from the side, “Is the law on our side if I say yes?”

“No.”

“Uh-No, no way dude, I’m not biting my thumb at you guys, I just felt like biting my thumb.”

“Yeah, can’t he just bite his thumb if he wants to? What are you implying here? Are you trying to start a fight?” Asked HFG in an accusing tone.

“A fight? Please!” The possum scoffed, “We have better things to do than fight with _Capulet_ servants.”

“Fwat-” Musclesam spat his thumb out of his mouth, “What’s THAT supposed to mean?!”

“It means Capulet scum like you are not worth our time.” The taller Montague servant answered.

“Hey birdie, if what you want is a fight I’m right here! My master is just as good as yours!” Musclesam fumed.

“But he’s no better than mine.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is then,” The green man narrowed his eyes as he rolled up one of his sleeves. He was only stopped from punching that guy right on his beak because of HFG’s hand on his shoulder. The ghost made a gesture with his head towards a figure that was heading their way.

“Say that ‘better’ part again, here comes one of our boss’ relatives.” He whispered to Musclesam. “They’ll get in big trouble.”

The former nodded, and turned back to the ostrich, “Yes he is you LOSER.”

“Who are you calling ‘loser’ you LIAR!” The possum said as he shoved him.

“ALRIGHT THEN! If it’s a fight what you want you better BELIEVE you’re getting it! Better draw out your swords you LOSERS!” Muscleman took off his shirt and looked back at HFG, “Come on Fives, let’s go! WOOOOOOOH!” He yelled excitedly as he swiveled his shirt over his head with one hand and drew out his sword with the other. Soon enough they were all fiercely fighting with they weapons, screaming and yelling and throwing the occasional punch at each other.

 “You Montagues are nothing but losers!”

“You Capulets are nothing but turds!”

“No YOU are turds!”

“No YOU ARE!”

“Gentlemen, please, stop fighting!” They all turned around to see the mysterious figure from before standing in front of them; it had a gigantic head and a slim body, kinda resembling a lollipop. He had a concerned yet serious look on his face, “There’s no need to be so aggressive. We can all be turds!” He finished with a smile.

The men stared at him for a couple seconds before resuming their fighting, regardless of the man’s protests. He finally looked down and sighed, “Alright then, I’m afraid I have no choice. If you will not listen to reason, maybe you’ll listen to my sword.” He started drawing out his weapon, until he heard a masculine voice calling him from behind.

“Really? Have you really fallen as low as to pull out your sword to fight a bunch of worthless servants? Turn around, Popsvolio, and look at the man who’s going to kill you.”

He did as told, and was met by the smug eyes of another bird-man. This one was an orange Oriole –or something like that- with one wooden leg and a sword on his hands, aimed directly at him.

“Oh, no no my good man, I’m only trying to keep the peace. These men won’t stop brawling and refuse to listen to my pleads. But now that you’re here, please either stop pointing your sword at me or good lord use it to help me stop this fight.”

“Seriously? You take out your sword and then talk about peace? I hate the word peace like I hate hell, all Montagues, and your oversized head! Let’s go at it, you unreasonably joyous popsicle!”

And so they were two more among the fight, along with a bunch of citizens with clubs and spears that decided to stop being spectators and join the general madness, mostly because they were all pretty sick of both households and their stupid fight.

And that was the cue for none other than Lord and Lady Capulet to show up in the fight, them being a man and a bird-like woman.

Lord Capulet was fuming, “What’s this noise? Give me my long sword! Come on! What do I even pay you for?!”

“Frank, honey, I think a crutch would be better—why are you even asking for a sword?” His wife asked.

“Well isn’t it obvious Denise?” He said pointing at a couple that was drawing closer to them, “That good for nothing old Montague is here and he’s waving his sword around just to make me mad. I want my sword! Now!”

As it turned out, the couple was none other but Lord and Lady Montague, also known as their most hated enemies. The man-or sort of man, considering it was an anthropomorphic blue jay- was waving his sword at Lord Capulet.

“Capulet, you villain!” He yelled, making his wife hold him back by the shoulders, “Hilary what are you doing? Let me go! I have to put that useless Capulet in his place!”

“I’m sorry William but I’m not going to let you die in a pointless street brawl.” The woman answered firmly.  

They didn’t have much time to argue after that though, because that was the precise second the prince of Verona made his entrance in the scene, the man was a very angry talking gumball machine that looked down at everyone from his white horse.

“What the HECK is going on here?!” He yelled from the top of his lungs. Everyone stopped fighting immediately, stunned at the prince’s red face. They all separated into two sides and started mumbling half-baked excuses.

“P-prince Benscalus, well, you see-”

“It was the Montagues that started!”

“Those Capulet slugs lie!”

“ENOUGH!” The prince roared, “I don’t want to hear it! I’ve had it enough with you wealthy slackers disturbing the peace all over Verona! You Montagues and Capulets are always making a mess, attacking your own neighbors and acting like ANIMALS that won’t listen to the most SIMPLE of orders! Well guess what, from now on I WON’T TAKE IT EASY ON YOU ANYMORE! Put your weapons down RIGHT NOW or you’re GOING TO BE TORTURED!” He ordered.

Both sides of the fight immediately obeyed, some even sweating a little at the sight of their angry prince.

“Three. Times. THREE. TIMES counting today you have wrecked this beautiful city with your senseless fights, all because you Montagues and Capulets don’t know how to be civil to each other and for reasons I bet none of you even remember!”

“Well, actually,” a servant intervened, “the reason for these households’ animosity is-”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” The prince cut him off. “I will NOT tolerate having a bunch of troublemakers forcing the poor, peaceful population of this city to give up their everyday lives just to pull you off each other’s throats! Next time you decide to pull a stunt like this, YOU ARE PAYING WITH YOUR LIVES GOT IT?” He turned to the multitude, “Everybody, go home now or whatever you were doing before this stupid fight happened. As for you punks, Capulet,” he spoke to the Lord, “you’re coming with me right now. Montague,” he said to the other Lord, “Meet me later this afternoon at the old Free-town, I got matters to speak with you. As for the rest, I’m just saying this once more: go away OR YOU’RE EXECUTED!”   

That last threat was more than enough to compel everyone to leave as fast as their limbs allowed them, leaving only three people in the scene: Lord and Lady Montague, and sweet ol’ Popsvolio.

“Well, that was quite the shoot show,” William Montague said to Popsvolio, “Tell me nephew, who started this old fight up again? Were you here when it started?”

“A show indeed, but not a jolly good one I fear,” Popsvolio lamented, “I’m afraid I came too late, since your servants were already in conflict with those that serve your enemy when I arrived. I begged them to stop, but they ignored me, forcing me to draw my own sword in order to get their attention. But I wasn’t halfway out my blade when that grumpy, impolite Johnbalt threatened me with his own, forcing me to duel him. Before I knew it there were even more participants in the fight, until you arrived and were followed shortly by our Prince, making the fight meet its end.”

“Oh, but where’s my son? Where’s Mordeo? Have you seen him today? I’m glad he wasn’t here for this fight.” Lady Montague asked.

“Madam, I had a lot on my mind an hour before dawn this morning, so I went for a walk. The scenery was lovely, little birds chirping and greeting me Good Morning!” he giggled joyfully, “and as I walked by I saw that underneath the Sycamore grove that grows on the west side of the city, your son was taking an early-morning walk. I headed toward him, but he saw me coming and hid in the woods. I thought he must be feeling the same way I was—wanting to be alone and tired of his own company. I figured by the hurried way he hid from me he was avoiding me, so I decided to leave him alone and keep to myself.”

Lord Montague shook his head, “I don’t know what can I do for that boy. He’s been like this for weeks, crying and sighing morning and night. And as soon as the sun rises he refuses to come out of his room, I can hear him recite sad poetry from the other side of the door. But you know teenagers, right? He’s just sixteen, after all. But I fear he might need help to get out of this emo-phase.”

“My noble uncle, perhaps you know why he acts this way?” Asked Popsvolio.

“Heck if I know, I asked and he won’t tell me.”

“Have you done everything you could to make him tell you the reason?”

“I’ve tried, I even tried having many of our friends to make him talk, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. He’s the only he talks to, and from what I’ve heard through the walls I don’t know if he’s even good to himself. He’s really concealing very well whatever is troubling him. I just wish we knew what’s bothering him so we could help.”

Speak of the devil, in the distance they could see who else but Mordeo himself, looking just as gloomy as expected.

“Look! Here he comes. If you don’t mind, please step aside my Lords. As one of his closest friends, he’ll either have to tell me what’s wrong or else tell me no over and over.”

Lord Montague nodded, “I hope you’re lucky enough to hear the true story by sticking around.” He then turned to his wife, “Come on honey, let’s go.” Soon the couple was out of sight.

Popsvolio headed over where Mordeo was and greeted him cheerfully, “Good morning, my dear cousin! How are you feeling today?”

“Uhm? Oh, hey Pops,” Mordeo greeted him back, “is it really that early?”

“It’s only just now nine o'clock.” Popsvolio checked.

“Wow, I guess time goes slowly when you’re sad,” he sighed. “By the way, was that my dad who left just now?”

“It certainly was. Mordeo, I’m afraid I need to make a rather indiscreet question, out of my most sincere concern: what’s making you so sad and your hours so long?”

“I don’t have the thing that makes time fly.”

“Oh, you’re in love?”

“More like out.”

“Out of love?” Popsvolio tilted his head.

“I’m in love Pops, but…she doesn’t love me back.” Mordeo looked away in pain.

Pops gave her a sympathetic look, “Oh my, I’m so sorry my friend, that certainly is quite a motive to be sad. Love looks like a nice thing, when poets immortalize it in beautiful poems or artists do as well with their art, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.”

“Nah, that’s not what’s sad. I can take roughness. What’s really sad is that love is supposed to be blind, but it can still make you do whatever it wants. But whatever man, I’m just being a downer here. Let’s just go to the Swan Wing Kindom for lunch, I’m getting hun-” he stopped midsentence at the sight of blood on the floor, “Oh my gosh! Pops, did someone fight here? No-you know what? Don’t tell me-I already know. This was another fight with the Capulets, the people my dad hates. This fight has a lot to do with hatred, but to me it has more to do with love. O brawling love! O loving hate! Love that comes from nothing! Sad happiness! Serious foolishness! Beautiful things muddled together into an ugly mess! Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake—it’s everything except what it is! This is the love I feel, though no one loves me back-Pops are you laughing right now?”

That was the impression he got from the other man, since it seemed to be holding back tears and biting his lip fiercely, “Oh no, my dear cousin, I’m not laughing. I’m crying.”

“What? Crying? Why?” Mordeo asked, astonished.

“I’m crying because of how sad you are!” Popsvolio broke into tears.

“Aw man, I’m sorry Pops, but this is just what ‘love’ did to me. I feel like dirt ever since she rejected me, but I didn’t mean to make you feel the same way dude. I’m already sad enough without the guilt of dragging other people with me. It’s just, I can’t help it!” He snapped, “Love is nothing but painful smoke that’s clogging up your lungs and it tastes like a lover’s sighs, and right when you think you’ve coughed it all out it turns into fire that you see in their eyes, burning and hypnotizing. But when you frustrate them it turns into the ocean and tries to drown you. What is love? Begging ‘baby don’t hurt me’? It’s just madness that chokes you no matter what you do. But I can’t pretend to drown others with me, so I’ll just be on my own till I either forget her name, or my own. I’ll see you later Pops.”

He attempted to leave, but was stopped by Popsvolio’s hand on his shoulder.

“Wait! Let me come with you. If you leave me like this, you’re doing me wrong, dear cousin.”

“Sorry Pops, but I’m no good right now. I’m not myself. I’m not here. This isn’t Mordeo—he’s somewhere else. Probably having a better time than me.” He whispered to himself, “that lucky bastard.”

“At least tell me who is this lady you long for so much!” Popsvolio pleaded.

Mordeo groaned, “Do I seriously have to?”

“No, but I’d be eternally grateful if you did. In all seriousness.”

“You wouldn’t tell a sick man he “seriously” has to make his will—it would just make him worse. Seriously, Pops, I love a woman.”

“That was implied when you told me you were in love.”

“You hit right on the target then. Well, if you got to know, she’s like, gorgeous man. Really, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“It is said that the more beautiful the target, the easiest it is to hit it.” Popsvolio observed.

“Tell that to Cupid,” Mordeo laughed bitterly, “she is also really smart, I swear she’s the whole package. Except she doesn’t want _my_ package, or anybody’s for that matter. She’s vowed to chastity. No arrow of love is worthy of her touch, let alone any weak man like me. She won’t as much as blush with any pickup line I give her and even makes a face whenever our eyes meet, and my wealth means nothing to her because she’s already rich in beauty. That’s the saddest part; when she dies, her beauty will be destroyed with her.”

“Wait, so she’s made a vow to be a virgin forever?”

Mordeo nodded, “Yes she has, which is a darn waste if you ask me. She’s so gorgeous, but she won’t have sex with anyone ever so she can’t pass on those genes to future generations and therefore I can’t help her with that. She’s sworn off love, and that promise has left me alive but dead, like a zombie that lives only to talk about it to whoever listens now.”

“Well, given the situation, perhaps you should try forgetting about her?”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?!” He frowned, “Please Pops, teach me to forget!”

“You should start by looking not at the pain inside you, but at the beauty around you!” Popsvolio said cheerfully, “Verona is home to many beautiful ladies, perhaps you’ll meet one of them who’ll also want your attentions?”

“That will only make me think more about how beautiful _she_  is. It’s pointless man, other girls will only make her seem even prettier in comparison. Once you see real beauty you can’t just forget about it, whenever I see a pretty girl walking by my brain is like ‘Yeah she’s okay I guess, but you know who else is REALLY pretty?’” He shook his head in despair before starting to walk away, “Goodbye Pops, thanks for trying to help but you can’t teach me to forget her.”

“I swear my friend, I shall teach you that lesson or die with that debt on my conscience.”

And with that, the couple of friends left the scene, Mordeo whining about love and _waaaah_ all the way as his good cousin tried his best to come up with a way to cheer him up.

Little did they know, that ‘way’ was going to cross their paths VERY soon.


	2. Chapter 2

The scene was now the same city, yet the household that gathers our attention is different. Now the magnificent mansion that set the place of the story wasn’t Montague, but of the Capulets. In fact, the Lord of the house, Frank Capulet, was in that very moment having a very important discussion with another member of the nobility of Verona, Count Del Hanlon. They were walking down the hall as they argued followed closely by one of the servants.

“No, I don’t think so. That good for nothing Montague has sworn an oath just like I have, and he’s under the same penalty. Even that pathetic codger knows how to respect the law when he chooses to, I don’t think it will be hard for men as old as we are to keep the peace.” Lord Capulet reasoned.

“You know, it’s such a shame that such respectable men are involved in such heated feud. Oh, the humanity! The horror that rains on our beautiful city!” The Count said in an over dramatic voice, “By the way my Lord, have you given any thought to my previous request?”

“Hanlon, I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again; my baby girl is still too young for that. She’s not even fourteen yet for Pete’s sake! I want to give her a couple of years before you come up again with this ‘marriage’ nonsense.”

“But I’ve seen plenty of happily married women waaay younger than her!”

~~Creepers. Creepers everywhere.~~

“Yeah, and those very same girls turn into old lifeless flesh bags before they are even eighteen. Besides, I want to make sure my princess is taken care of, so don’t even think of marrying her without my permission. You can woo her if you want, flirt with her and try to make her love you. If she accepts you, THEN you can marry her all you want. Speaking of, you can get started tonight. I’m having a feast that we’ve celebrated for many years, I’ve invited many of my closest friends, and I’d like to welcome you and add you to the guest list. At my humble house tonight, you can expect to see dazzling stars that walk on the ground and light the sky from below, perfect for romance. In fact, there’ll be plenty of pretty ladies around, so you might not even want my daughter anymore by the end of the night. Now, let’s go.” He turned to his servant before leaving with the Count, and handed him a fancy looking piece of paper, “You. Go and find the people on this list and tell them we’re having a party tonight in my house. And hurry!”

The otter nodded, but as soon as he was out of the house-and out of his master’s hearing range- he started complaining out loud.

“ _’FinD tHe PeOPle WhOsE nAmEs aRe oN tHIs LiSt’_ ”, he said in a mocking tone imitating his Lord, “Would you ask a shoemaker and a tailor to play with each others' tools, or a fisherman to play with paints, or a painter to play with fishing nets? No! No you wouldn’t! But I’ve been sent to find the people whose names are written on this list, and I can’t read! How am I supposed to find them now?! Wait-that’s it! I’ve got to find somebody who knows how to read to help me. And here come some people, right in time.”

In fact, there were two men coming his way. These men were none other than Mordeo and Popsvolio, still having a woeful discussion about the first’ love trouble.  

“Come on, my good fellow!” Pops said to Mordeo, “You can very well put out one fire by starting another. A new pain will make the one you already have seem less. If you make yourself dizzy, you can cure yourself by spinning back around in the opposite direction-but not too hard or you’ll end up in a very weird land with gigantic monsters that look awfully lots like your friends and hunt you for giving speeches after giving you ice cream. A new grief will put the old one out of your mind. Make yourself lovesick by gazing at some new girl, and your old lovesickness will be cured instantly!”

“If we are looking for cures I guess we could always try the plantain leaf.”

“The what leaf?”

“You know, the plantain leaf? It helps to cure injuries. Like when you cut your shin.”

“Oh my!” Popsvolio asked with worry, “my dear cousin, have you finally gone insane?”

“I might as well have.” Mordeo lamented, “I feel more tied up and tighter than a mental patient in a straitjacket. I’m locked up in a prison and deprived of food. I’m whipped and tortured, I’m just-Oh. Hey dude.” He finished abruptly when seeing Doug, who was looking at them with intrigue.

“Hello sir, I’m really sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping you knew how to read?”

“I can read my own fortune in my misery.” Mordeo’s statement made Pops roll his eyes.

Doug was a bit confused, to say the least, “Perhaps you’ve learned from life and not from books. But please tell me, can you read anything you see?”

“Well yeah, as long as I know the language and the letters.”

“Oh, I see. Honest answer at least. Thank you gentlemen, have a nice day.”

He was ready to leave when Mordeo took the paper from his hands, “Give me that. Of course I can read.” He huffed as he straightened up the paper, and started reading out loud. “’Signor Martino and his wife and daughters, Count Anselme and his beautiful sisters, Vitruvio’s widow, Signor Placentio and his lovely nieces, Ribcutio and his brother Doneltine, My uncle Capulet and his wife and daughters, My fair niece CJ-line and Livia, Signor Valentio and his cousin Johnbalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.’ Wow that’s a fancy group of people. What’s this list for? Are these people supposed to come somewhere?”

“Up.”

“Uh?”

“To my master’s house. He’s having a party and he asked me to tell all the people on this list to come over tonight, but I can’t read so I asked your help.”

“Oh, right. Guess I should have asked who your master is first.”

“I serve the rich and powerful Lord Capulet,” Doug told them proudly, “and if you’re not a Montague then you’re more than welcome to come and have a cup of wine. Thank you for your help gentlemen, I have to go now, have a nice day!” He waved them off and sprinted down the street out of their sight.

“Well, isn’t this perfect!” Popsvolio clapped once in excitement, “According to that list, the beautiful CJ-line that you love so much will be at that distinguished event, among other beautiful ladies from all Verona. Now you have the chance to compare her in an objective manner and see that even the most beautiful swan can turn out to be as ugly as a crow in the right conditions.”

“Are you kidding me Pops? There’s no woman on earth as beautiful as her! If I ever think otherwise it’s because my eyes turned into liars which tears will turn into flames! Not even the sun itself has ever seen creature as beautiful as her since, like, forever.” Mordeo objected.

“Please dear friend, you had no one to compare her to when you vowed yourself to her beauty, tonight at the feast I’ll show you women even more beautiful than her. I guarantee you that!” He promised.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuugh, _fine_. But only cause there I’ll get to see CJ-line one more time.”

\--------------------..

Meanwhile, back inside the Capulet house a heated argument was about to start. Mostly because of a very ill-tempered Lady that was relentlessly calling for her daughter, Lady Capulet herself.

“Nurse! Nurse! Where are you?” Lady Capulet turned around and searched the room with her eyes until she saw the short, old woman. It was her daughter’s nurse, who had served her family for years. “Oh, there you are. Tell me, where is my daughter?”

“She’s not with you yet? I swear ma’am, I’ve already told her to come at least twice,” the mole lady answered, “I’ll call her again. Margaliet! Margaliet! Where are you? Come on girl, you’re needed here!”

A young girl entered the room, alerted by the shouting in the corridor. She had a striking resemblance to Lady Capulet and seem quite worried about the noise.

“Uhm? What? Who’s calling me?”

“Your mother,” the nursed answered.

“Ugh,” the Margaliet groaned to herself, “I’m here mom. What do you want?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what I want ~~WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT~~. Nurse, leave us alone now, I need to talk to my daughter in private,” the nurse started walking off, “no wait, never mind come back here,” and stopped. “I just remembered, you can listen to us with no problem. You know how young my daughter is.”

“That’s right madam, I know better than anyone.”

“So you’re aware she’s not fourteen yet.”

“I’d bet fourteen of my own teeth—but I only have these two little teeth in the front of my mouth- she’s not fourteen. Wait, how long is it until Lammastide?”

“Two weeks and a few odd days I think.”

“In that case, she’ll be fourteen on the night before Lammastide. I know this because she and my Susan-may her soul be with God- shared the same birthday. Susan was just too good for me,” She looked down in grief. “But anyway, yes she’ll be fourteen because I remember it was about eleven years ago when that big earthquake happened and she was throwing a tantrum at the time and got up when the earth starting shaking, and my husband –rest in peace, my love- picked her up and said, I kid you not, “Did you fall on your face? You’ll fall backward when you grow smarter. Won’t you, Jule.” And I swear, the poor pretty thing stopped crying and said, “Yes.” Gosh, that was so funny! I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard as that day. “Won’t you, Jule,” he said. And the pretty fool stopped crying and said, “Yes.” ”

“Alright alright, thank you Eileen, that’s enough.” Lady Capulet interrupted her rambling. 

“I’m sorry My Lady, it’s just it was so funny! Poor Margaliet had no idea at the time that to fall backwards also means-”

“Eileen!” Margueliet whined with red cheeks, “We don’t need to hear more of that story.”

“Alright, alright I’ll stop,” the nurse laughed. “You were such a cute kid. I swear the day you get married will be the happiest day of my life too.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Lady Capulet mused, “marriage is precisely why we are all here. Margaliet, what are your plans on getting married?”

“Marriage sounds amazing!” She smiled, “For someone else.”

The nurse let out a laugh that was quickly muffled at the stern look of her boss. “Well dear, you better start changing your mind, it’s about time you start planning your future. There are plenty of girls younger than you already wed, I was myself already your mother at your age and yet here you are, single and with no kids! And you better believe I want grandkids missy! So please consider this: Count Hanlon is here and he wants to marry you!” She said excitedly.

“He’s not…bad.” The nurse said to Margaliet, “I can think of worse suitors.”

“Indeed! He’s also very rich.”

“For a pompous actor wannabe.” The nurse murmured.

“What was that?”

“NOTHING.”

“Okay,” Lady Capulet looked at her weirdly and then back to her daughter, “So, what do you say? Can you love this gentleman? He’ll be at the feast tonight, you can get to know him better there! He’s really handsome, rich and the only thing he’s missing is a bride. That could be you!”

“You’d also be a mother soon! Babies are cute!” Eileen said excitedly.

“So, Margaliet? What do you think?”

“Well, I _guess_ I could give him a shot. But only if you really want me to mom.” The girl relented.

At that moment the messenger from before entered the room to make an announcement.

“I’m sorry for interrupting Madam, but the guests are already here, dinner is served, people are calling for you, people have asked for Juliet, and I think some people in the pantry are cursing the Nurse-Don’t ask me why though. Things are getting out of hand, I need you three to please come along.”

“Thank you Doug, we’ll follow you right now. Margaliet, the Count is waiting for you.”

“Let’s go child, have a chat with the man that’ll make you happy. Maybe.” The nurse offered.

Margaliet just sighed, “If you say so.”

\---------------------------------------------.

In the ballroom there was, as previously mentioned, a giant mess of a party. All kinds of nobility were having fun, partying and dancing with any number of servants offering them exquisite plates of fancy food. The room was overjoyed with laughter and music and everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives.

Which was why nobody seemed to notice three mysterious men making their way through the house, trying their best to get into said room unnoticed. These men were the son of that household’s most hated enemy, Mordeo Montague, his cousin Popsvolio and his best friend Ribcutio, short yet extremely witted raccoon. Mordeo seemed to be understandably worried about being there, considering what his father’s enemy would say if he caught them crashing his precious feast.

“Dude, this is a VERY bad idea. What do you even plan to tell them? You can’t just come uninvited to the Capulet’s most important party of the year! They’re gonna kill us all!”

“Dear cousin, please worry not,” Popsvolio responded, “for nobody is going to ask us for an explanation. This is a celebration after all, we’ll just rejoice ourselves with a short dance and be on our merry way.”

Mordeo sighed, “Fine I guess. Just give me a torch to hold then, I’m too sad to dance right now.”

“What? No way dude!” Ribcutio objected, “You got to dance! That’s the whole reason we’re here!”

“Uh, _no_ , the reason we’re here is because YOU wanted to get drunk on Capulet’s fancy wine reserve.”

“Uh, well yeah, but that was just an added bonus of the REAL mission! You are going to dance and have a great time at it! Even if people laugh at your lame dance moves.”

“But I feel too heavy to dance! It’s like this pain turned my soul into lead!”

“Then steal Cupid’s wings and start flying on that dance floor! Oh come on don’t look at me like that Pops, that diaper wearing jerk had it coming.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t work Rigbcutio,” Mordeo said sorrowfully, “his arrow has wounded me to the point I can’t stand up, let alone dance.”

“You know, for someone that talks constantly about love you’re a real downer most of the time-what’s with all this sad poetry and crying over ONE girl. Have some male pride for once!”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be such a downer if love hadn’t used me as chew toy!”

“Then how about you use a _new love_ as _chew toy_? Uh? Uh? Know what I mean?” He wiggled his brows and nudge him a couple times (much to Mordeo’s annoyance), “Seriously though, just look around you man! There are plenty of pretty girls in this party and with these masks they won’t be put off by how ugly you are!-OW!” That last part was caused by Mordeo who punched him in the arm.

Said blue jay rolled his eyes and began putting his mask on, “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

“Yes please,” Pops added behind his own mask, “So remember, the plan is to start dancing the minute we get in, give no time for anybody to question us.”

“I told you Pops, I’m not dancing. I’ll just hold a torch and sit this one out; you guys have fun without me.”

“No freaking way man, I don’t care if you tie yourself up to one of the pillars, you’re hitting that dance floor with us. I need a wingman and Pops alone won’t do it.”

“But what is wrong with my performance of the wingman?” Popsvolio asked, slightly offended.

“Pops, you brought literal wings attached to your back the last time I asked you to come with me. The girl and her entire family left the country that night just because of that.”

“But they were the most beautiful swan wings I could find!”

Ribcutio just brought a palm to his face and dragged it down, “You better don’t blow this for me Mordeo. Let’s go now, we’re wasting precious daylight.”

“Daylight? But it’s night already.”

“WHATEVER! I DON’T CARE!” Rigcutio snapped, “Let’s just go to the freaking ball and get wasted before the Capulets notice we’re there!”

“Dude these masks aren’t gonna fool anybody. This is a bad idea.”

“Stop saying that!” The raccoon yelled, “Why are you so against this? You used to be all up for stupid danger all the time! You used to be cool, man.” He nagged him.

“I just have a bad feeling about this. I had a weird dream last night!”

“So did I!”

“And what was your dream about?”

“I dreamed I was a sad loser that spent his time whining about how girls won’t sleep with me cause I’m a creep. The worst part was I had a dumb name like ‘Mordeo’!-OW! STOP IT!” He rubbed his now again punched arm, “Dude what you even care, dreams are boring and dreamers can’t remember them fully so they lie about them. Just get over it.”

“Dreamers only lie when they are in bed and only dream about the truth.”

“Considering how often you whine about your dreams I’ll take it you’ve been hanging out with Queen Mab again.”

“Oh, Mordeo you know a Queen?” Popsvolio asked innocently.

The other two friends just looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

“Well yes he does Pops!” Rigcutio smiled mischeviously, “In fact, they hang out aaaaaaaaaaaall the time.” He giggled evilly when Mordeo narrowed his eyes at him.

“And who is this lady?” Popsvolio asked with naïve interest.

“She’s the fairies' midwife! She’s reeeeeeally tiny, smells like flowers and rides a miniature wagon drawn by tiny little atoms, and spends her nights riding it through young men’s noses and into their brains, making them dream about love, money, killing their enemies or getting really wasted. She’s also the one that makes virgin girls dream about se-”

“Ribcutio!” Mordeo stopped him, “That’s enough, stop making up that nonsense. He’s lying Pops, don’t listen to him.”

“Okay, maybe I am.” Ribcutio shrugged, “But my nonsense still makes more sense than the average dream. They are both born from a person’s imagination; they change as much as the wind and blow us even worse.”

“Said wind is blowing us off course,” Popsvolio stated, “dinner is probably over already and we’re already late.”

“I don’t know man; I’m worried we might still be too early. I have a bad feeling about this, like tonight something bad is going to start and it will end up in my own death.” ~~Epic foreshadowing~~. Mordeo felt a shiver go down his spine, but was quick to shrug it off “Uhf, whatever, I don’t even care anymore. Whoever is in charge of writing the script of my life can do whatever they want with it.” ~~What fourth wall?~~

“Alright now, let’s go to the party, lover boys!”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that!”

\--------------------------------.

Back at the center of the commotion, the ballroom was being taken care of by hard-working servants, all frantically trying to follow their duties the best they could.

“Where’s Leon? Why isn’t he helping us clear the table? He should be moving and scraping plates!” Doug fumed.

“When only one or two men have all the good manners, and even they are dirty, things are bad.” Said one of the minor ~~characters~~ serving men.

“Ugh” We don’t have time for this!” Doug turned to other serving men, “Take away the stools, the sideboards, and the plates. And please don’t forget to save me a piece of marzipan, and if you have the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell I’ll be eternally grateful. Jerry and Leon!”

“Yes boss, we’re here.” Leon finally showed up.

“They’re looking for you in the great chamber.”

“What do they even expect from us? We can’t be in two places at once, we are ordinary service men!” Jerry complained, “Whatever, let’s just go. Let the rich and fancy admire our work-or ignore it completely like usual.”  

The servants left the room and were replaced by the Capulets. Little did they know that their enemies were hiding in the crowd, cheerful masks concealing their Montague features. Lord Capulet did that thing with the glass and spoon when people want to bring attention to themselves.

“Everybody, welcome to the annual Capulet feast! I hope you’re all having a great time tonight, because I assure you, things are just getting started! It’s time for the musicians to start cheering up this gathering, don’t you think? Gentlemen, I assure you, all ladies who don’t have corns on their toes will dance with you. Not feeling so shy now, do you ladies?” General laughter echoed, “I’ll tell you, whoever girl acts shy and refuses to dance, she has corns. You’re welcome boys.” More laughter. “Remember, tonight memories will be made and new love will be born, so you men don’t be shy either! Girls can’t do all the heavy lifting for you forever!” Laughter again. “Now, if you’re afraid your appearance might get in the way, that’s why this is a masked ball. When I was a young lad like you I could wear a mask over my eyes and charm a lady by whispering a story in her ear. But don’t be afraid, I’m a married man now so I won’t get in the way. You’re welcome again, guys.” Laughter happens. “Now! Let’s quit this babbling and let’s see who is the best in the dance floor! Come on guys, hit it! 

The musicians obeyed instantly and the room was filled with cheerful melodies, attracting everyone’s attention away from the young Mordeo, who stood apart from the crowd.

Lord Capulet gave some few more instructions to his serving men before sitting down with his cousin, deciding they could leave the fun to their young. All this unknowing that a certain someone was about to set his eyes on his most precious treasure.

Mordeo was hanging around in a corner, leaning against a pillar and sighing to himself, lamenting his love would never love him back. He felt like the most unlucky being on earth, his heart ached with pain and there was no solace to his misery. He would never feel this way about no one else, he knew, and swore to mourn his unrequited love for the rest of his days.

Next, in true devoted lover fashion, proceeded to fall in love with the next girl he saw. Predictably enough, as the title of the play says, the stunningly underage Margaliet.

“Woah,” he whispered to himself. The girl was absolutely beautiful! She was a bird-person (Rick and Morty fans stop giggling) just like himself, a breathtaking red robin that was moving around the dance floor in absolute grace to his eyes.

He tapped one serving man’s shoulder, “Hey dude, but do you know who is the girl on the arm of that lucky knight over there?”

“I’ afraid not, sir.”

“Dude, how can you not?! She shines even brighter than the torches around us! She’s like, the most beautiful girl in the entire country! All women are nothing compared to her! I can’t believe I ever thought of anyone but her before tonight, I need to see her, find out her name or something! Wait were did he go?”

Turns out the serving man had long ago left, right about when Mordeo started rambling his poetry since he did NOT get paid enough to deal with this crap.

And there was another reason for it to have been better for Mordeo to stop his creeper lover speech since it was his voice that gave him away and allowed Johnbalt to recognize him.

“What?! A Montage in our feast?! Inconceivable! You! Give me my sword!” He ordered to his page. “How DARE this filthy scumbag sneak into our house hiding behind a mask! I swear on my family’s honor killing you will be the last thing I’ll consider a crime.”

“Jonhbalt?” He turned around to see his uncle, Lord Capulet, calling him. “What’s wrong boy? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?”

“That man over there is a Montague! He had the audacity to crash your feast and slither into our own home!”

“Ah, I see. Is that man young Mordeo?”

“Yes he is, or at least until I turn him into a corpse.” He drew his sword halfway but was stopped by his uncle’s hand on his shoulder.

“Alright boy, calm down for a moment. I hate the Montagues as much or even more than you do, but this isn’t the time or place for that. Besides, Mordeo is the least awful of his kind, he has built a reputation as a well-behaved gentleman all over Verona so you wouldn’t look good if you were to kill him at a party of all situations. Just let him be and ignore him the best you can. And stop frowning for the Lord’s sake, this is a party!” He ordered him.

“But-I can’t let a filthy villain like him get away with it! I won’t allow it!”

“ _I won’t allow-_ Are you disobeying me boy? Who’s the Lord here?! Me or you?! Are you trying to start a riot in my own house?! If my house gets wrecked because of you I’ll slap you in your insolent face!”

“But we’re being disrespected!”

“I’ll be the one to decide that! Until then you better leave him alone and act the way you should when you’re in a celebration! Have I made myself clear?!” He whisper-shouted so the guests wouldn’t hear him.

“Ugh, you know what? FINE! If you’re okay with our enemy drinking out wine and dancing with our women then I’ll just leave! But remember uncle, this little prank of his will turn from sweet to bitter REALLY soon!” He promised, leaving the room enraged.

Good thing he left, because it’s really doubtful he would have been happy at the sight of Mordeo sneaking his way towards his underage cousin.

He came from behind her right when she wasn’t talking to anyone and grabbed her hand. “Pardon me, my lady, but I couldn’t stand the thought of having such a gorgeous hand in my reach and not trying out if it’s as soft and perfect as it looks. If you think this is wrong, I’m more than willing to make it up to you-with a kiss.”

Surprisingly enough, Margaliet wasn’t immediately put off by this strange man’s amazing display of f***boynery. “Don’t be silly, random guy I’ve never seen before in my life, I don’t find this offensive at all. By holding my hand you show polite devotion, and hands that hold each other is close enough to a kiss.”

“Soooo you’re saying I can have a kiss?”

“Meh, I don’t know.”

“My lips are soft like your hand and pretty sweet too.” He offered.

“Those lips should be used for better things, like praying.” She raised an eyebrow with a smile. ~~Mordeo be like ‘yo wanna make out’ and Juliet be like ‘lemme tell you about Jesus.’~~

“I DO use them for praying, my saint. I spend every night praying for your touch, for your beautiful gaze to lie upon me, and for your lips to touch mine. Please grant my prayer so my faith doesn’t turn to despair.”

“Saints never move, even when they grant prayers.”

“I can work with that.” Without missing a beat he leaned in and stole a kiss, smiling smugly all the way. “Now my sin has been taken from my lips by yours.”

Margaliet was blushing bright red, “Doesn’t that mean you’ve given my lips the sin that belongs to you?”

“Uhm,” He mock thought for a moment, “Guess you’re right. Give me my sin back.”

They started kissing again, leaning against each other and letting their arms wrap around the other.

Margaliet broke the kiss first, “Wow, you…you kiss pretty well.” She gave him a goofy smile.

“Margaliet! Margaliet where are you?”

They broke apart abruptly, startled by the calling of the girl’s nurse. She made her appearance from behind the couple, “Oh, there you are! You naughty girl, getting out of my sight as soon as I turn around. Your mother is calling you, you better hurry before she gets mad.”

“I-but-I,” She looked back and forth between the nurse and her mystery man, before sighing, “I’m coming.” She soon was out of Mordeo’s sight, having disappeared behind a curtain.

“Wait! I don’t even know your-” He tried calling after her, but the girl either ignored him or didn’t hear him. He turned to the nurse, who was still looking at him with curiosity. “Oh, heh, hey there Miss. Do you know what that girl’s name is by any chance?”

 “By any chance?” Eileen laughed, “Boy, I nursed that girl when she was just a cute little baby, under instructions of her mother, the Lady of this house. Not to brag, but whoever marries that girl will be a very wealthy man.”

“WHAT?!” Mordeo yelled in astonishment, “No, it can’t be!”

“Can’t be what?”

“I-uh sorry ma’am, I have to go.” He said before fleeing to a different room and leaning against a corner.

“No nonononono, this can’t be for real!” He whispered to himself, “She is a Capulet! I’ve fallen in love with my family’s hated enemy! My life is in her hands now…”

He felt a tap on his shoulder, looking up he saw it was his cousin Popsvolio.

“Come on, Mordeo, it’s time to go. Right when things are the most fun is the best time to leave. Also Rigcutio is too wasted to walk and I need your help carrying him out.”

“Even if I leave, I’ve already messed up my entire life in the span of twenty minutes.”

“Gentlemen! Leaving already?”

They both tensed up at the voice of the Lord of the house, sweating begging to form on their foreheads.

“Come on boys, you can’t just go yet! We have some exquisite cheesecake and flan-”

“Oh, my good sir, that is very much kind of you, but you’ll see, the issue is-” Pops leaned closer and whispered something in his ear.

“Oh? Is that really true? Well, then, I wouldn’t want to keep you, I hope your friend’s bathroom survives after this!” He laughed.

“What?!” Mordeo looked offended at Popsvolio, who gave him an apologetic smile.

“Alright gentlemen, I thank you both for your honesty and for gracing my house with your presence tonight. Have a nice evening. Actually, we should all go to bed now.” He turned to his cousin, “Come on old man, it’s already late. Let’s hit the bed.”

Under the Lord’s instruction, everyone in the house left in favor of some much needed sleep. Everyone except for Margaliet of course, along with her nurse.

“What’s the matter sweetie?” Eileen asked Margaliet, since the girl seemed to be searching the room with her eyes.

“I, uh, nothing. Everything’s totally fine,” She lied. She was looking for her mystery lover, but really didn’t feel like explaining to her nurse she had just made out with a guy without even knowing his name. Fortunately, she managed to spot him just as he was leaving the room with another two men, one of them had a giant head and the other was extremely short. Not to mention so wasted he was being dragged by his feet while babbling some kind of song between hiccups. “Nurse, do you know who is that man over there? I mean, not that I care or anything.”

“Hum? That is the son and heir of old Tiberio.”

“No, I meant the other one. The one going through the door right now.”

“Young Petruchio, I think.”

“And the one that follows him?” She asked with feigned lack of interest.

“I don’t really know.”

“Please go ask?” The nurse raised a brow but didn’t question her, for which Margaliet was thankful. She stared at her as she talked to her nameless kisser.  ‘ _If he’s married, I think I’ll die rather than marry anyone else_.’

“Yikes,” the nurse said when she came back, “that man is Romeo. As in Romeo Montague. You know, the only son of your worst enemy.”

“WHAT?!” Margaliet’s eyes opened wide as her mouth was left hanging slack, “The only man I love is the son of the only man I hate! I saw him too early without knowing who he was, and I found out who he was too late! Love is a monster for making me fall in love with my worst enemy. This can’t be for real!”

“Uh? What? What’s wrong? What are you saying?”

Margaliet looked down with moist eyes, “Just a rhyme I learned from somebody I danced with at the party.”

Her sobbing was interrupted by someone calling her name from the other room. Most likely her mother.

“Coming!” The nurse shouted back. “Come on hon, the party’s over.”

And with that they left the scene, unknowing the disaster that had been born in that very room.


End file.
